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Authors: Tracy Anne Warren
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change his mind
and accompany her on the journey after all. Instead, he walked forward and took her
hand, placing the envelope with the money inside her grasp and curling her fingers
over it. “You’re going to take this and no’ argue further about it. Then you’re going
to buy passage on the southbound coach, which you’ll ride to Edinburgh, then on to
London. The coaches are always jammed full of travelers, and the coachman keeps a
rifle at the ready. You’ll be safe so long as you stay with the crowd.”
Her fingers went cold and numb against the parchment.
“As for your necklace,” he stated, “I want you to promise me that you will tuck it
away and no’ show it to anyone again until you’re with your friends in London. If
you try selling it to someone else, you’ll only end up swindled and the meager amount
you receive won’t be worth the loss of such a valuable and sentimental piece. Do I
have your word?”
She stared for a moment, then nodded.
Satisfied, he released his hold, then strode across to retrieve his luggage. Turning,
he nodded his farewell. “Fair travels, lass, whoever it is you may really be.”
“I am Princess Mercedes of Alden,” she proclaimed in a resolute voice that in no way
revealed her misgivings. “As I said, I will not accept charity and shall pay you back
in full,” she stated, referring to the money in the envelope. “Where may I direct
its repayment?”
He arched a single red-brown eyebrow. “There’s no need, but if you insist, send the
money to me in Skye. I’m the only Major Daniel MacKinnon there, so it’ll get to me
right enough.”
She nodded and then turned away so he wouldn’t see her distress.
His steps nearly soundless, he turned and strode to the door. A moment later, he was
gone.
Chapter 7
N early an hour later, Mercedes exited her room and walked along the inn’s narrow corridor
toward the staircase. She was attired in the new brown linsey-woolsey dress the maid
had obtained for her—a hideous combination of materials she had decided no human being
ought ever be forced to wear, particularly in the summer.
As she walked, she did her best not to squirm against the rough texture of the fabric,
or give in to the urge to pull and tug at the inexact fit of the dress. Without exaggeration,
it was quite the plainest and most ill-made gown she had ever worn—a far cry from
the luxurious silks and satins and downy soft muslins and gauzes to which she was
accustomed.
She hoped she wouldn’t end the day with her skin chafed bright red from the itching.
Bad enough that she had to suffer all the scrapes, scratches, and bruises that she’d
collected during her flight through the woods.
When she’d stripped off her nightgown earlier in order to wash and dress, she’d been
appalled to see the results of yesterday’s escape, her skin bearing nearly as many
shades as a rainbow. But there was nothing for it except to let time healher wounds. Just as there was no choice but to endure wearing the uncomfortable dress
for as long as it took to reach Emma and Nick’s town house and the reassuring familiarity
of their protection and friendship.
Assuming I make it to London alive.
She was still disappointed that Daniel MacKinnon had deserted her, even if he had
been gracious enough to lend her the coach fare.
Well, good riddance,
she thought,
especially since he too refuses to believe that I am telling the truth.
How had he put it? She was…
confused
.
Insane,
he meant.
Well, she was far from insane, although she might very well find herself driven mad
by this gown if the wretched itching didn’t soon abate.
Reaching the staircase, she started down, feeling suddenly more alone than ever. And
afraid.
Tears stung her eyes, but she blinked them away. She had refused to cry after Daniel
MacKinnon had turned his back and ridden away, and she would not cry now. She was
alone, true, but that
and accompany her on the journey after all. Instead, he walked forward and took her
hand, placing the envelope with the money inside her grasp and curling her fingers
over it. “You’re going to take this and no’ argue further about it. Then you’re going
to buy passage on the southbound coach, which you’ll ride to Edinburgh, then on to
London. The coaches are always jammed full of travelers, and the coachman keeps a
rifle at the ready. You’ll be safe so long as you stay with the crowd.”
Her fingers went cold and numb against the parchment.
“As for your necklace,” he stated, “I want you to promise me that you will tuck it
away and no’ show it to anyone again until you’re with your friends in London. If
you try selling it to someone else, you’ll only end up swindled and the meager amount
you receive won’t be worth the loss of such a valuable and sentimental piece. Do I
have your word?”
She stared for a moment, then nodded.
Satisfied, he released his hold, then strode across to retrieve his luggage. Turning,
he nodded his farewell. “Fair travels, lass, whoever it is you may really be.”
“I am Princess Mercedes of Alden,” she proclaimed in a resolute voice that in no way
revealed her misgivings. “As I said, I will not accept charity and shall pay you back
in full,” she stated, referring to the money in the envelope. “Where may I direct
its repayment?”
He arched a single red-brown eyebrow. “There’s no need, but if you insist, send the
money to me in Skye. I’m the only Major Daniel MacKinnon there, so it’ll get to me
right enough.”
She nodded and then turned away so he wouldn’t see her distress.
His steps nearly soundless, he turned and strode to the door. A moment later, he was
gone.
Chapter 7
N early an hour later, Mercedes exited her room and walked along the inn’s narrow corridor
toward the staircase. She was attired in the new brown linsey-woolsey dress the maid
had obtained for her—a hideous combination of materials she had decided no human being
ought ever be forced to wear, particularly in the summer.
As she walked, she did her best not to squirm against the rough texture of the fabric,
or give in to the urge to pull and tug at the inexact fit of the dress. Without exaggeration,
it was quite the plainest and most ill-made gown she had ever worn—a far cry from
the luxurious silks and satins and downy soft muslins and gauzes to which she was
accustomed.
She hoped she wouldn’t end the day with her skin chafed bright red from the itching.
Bad enough that she had to suffer all the scrapes, scratches, and bruises that she’d
collected during her flight through the woods.
When she’d stripped off her nightgown earlier in order to wash and dress, she’d been
appalled to see the results of yesterday’s escape, her skin bearing nearly as many
shades as a rainbow. But there was nothing for it except to let time healher wounds. Just as there was no choice but to endure wearing the uncomfortable dress
for as long as it took to reach Emma and Nick’s town house and the reassuring familiarity
of their protection and friendship.
Assuming I make it to London alive.
She was still disappointed that Daniel MacKinnon had deserted her, even if he had
been gracious enough to lend her the coach fare.
Well, good riddance,
she thought,
especially since he too refuses to believe that I am telling the truth.
How had he put it? She was…
confused
.
Insane,
he meant.
Well, she was far from insane, although she might very well find herself driven mad
by this gown if the wretched itching didn’t soon abate.
Reaching the staircase, she started down, feeling suddenly more alone than ever. And
afraid.
Tears stung her eyes, but she blinked them away. She had refused to cry after Daniel
MacKinnon had turned his back and ridden away, and she would not cry now. She was
alone, true, but that
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